Up until now, Wolfe hadn’t known if Arden would accept him. Even with the attraction between them—even as his body produced the pheromones that enticed her to react and respond to him without hesitation—he wasn’t sure if she’d take things to the next level. My female. My mate. A peace came from the knowledge, a comfort he didn’t know he needed giving him a measure of calm. It was as it should be. They were two halves of one whole. Only together would they would find completion. He’d do everything in his power to make her happy. He wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh. She would care for him and in turn, he would protect her. Shelter her. Nourish her. Love her. “Your skin’s as warm as the sun,” she whispered in wonder, each delicate syllable like a spoken caress. “It must be the lycae in him.” Wolfe tried to stop listening to her thoughts, knowing she resented the invasion of privacy, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
